


Hung up on You

by rayofsonnshine



Category: Buzzfeed Unsolved
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-14
Updated: 2017-07-14
Packaged: 2018-12-01 22:26:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11495994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayofsonnshine/pseuds/rayofsonnshine
Summary: AU in which Ryan is a ghosthunter who moves into a haunted apartment complex. Shane's his neighbor.Ryan wants to go viral on youtube. He'll do anything for a shot of a ghost on camera. Anything.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> It starts out slow but it'll get really wild I promiseeee

Ryan struggles to hoist his suitcase up the ancient staircase. He looks down at the numbers scribbled on his hand, cursing himself silently for not taking the elevator. 

His new apartment is on the sixth floor, though Ryan decides he wouldn't really call it "new". Constructed over 80 years ago, the Brookdale apartment complex was notorious for their bloody history and their foreboding decor. 

Ryan could agree with the latter part. He studies the aging, peeling wallpaper as he continues his climb. 

Why he'd chosen this complex instead of, well, any other apartment building in Los Angeles, he wasn't quite sure. 

Well, he knew why, but he still couldn't believe he'd actually done it. He'd read online that Brookdale was known for being one of the most haunted spots in the state of California. 

"C'mon Ryan," he says out loud. "Face your fears. It's for the views."

He approaches the sixth floor, proud of himself for making it this far without calling it quits. 

Though it takes some getting used to, Ryan actually likes ghost-hunting. 

Well, "like" is a pretty strong word.

Ryan turns on his camera and wipes the sweat off his forehead. "These stairs are too much for me, I'll probably die before I make it to the top. If you guys don't hear from me again, you know where to find my ghost."

He turns his camera off as he reaches the floor his apartment is on. 

"Alright, let's see," Ryan says to himself, pushing open a heavy door marked 6 in white paint. "Where is apartment 6c..."

He rounds a corner, reaching a long hallway with a few labeled doors on each side. 

A man stands in front of the door labeled 6b, clutching a pair of scissors and some yellow tape. 

"Uh, hi," Ryan says, his voice startling him. 

"Hey," the man turns to him, slipping the scissors and the yellow tape into his back pocket quickly. "You must be..."

"I'm Ryan, Ryan Bergara. I'm moving into apartment 6c," Ryan holds his hand out, scratching the back of his head awkwardly with the other. 

"Cool, we're neighbors," the man says, smiling. “I’m Shane. I live next door. Nice to meet ya," he shakes his hand. 

Ryan quickly pulls away. "Dude, your hand is like, hella cold."

Shane shrugs. "It's probably 'cause of the AC, it goes haywire sometimes. One of the downsides to living in a cheap place like this one."

Ryan shifts his backpack from one shoulder to the other, trying to distribute the weight. 

"Oh god, I'm such a dick. Here," Shane takes Ryan's suitcase out of his hand, allowing him to take off his backpack. "I can help bring your stuff inside."

"Thanks, uh,"

"It's Shane," he says again, slightly cross. 

"Sorry."

"That's fine, it happens a lot. Can I hold anything else of yours before my generosity runs thin? I've got one hand open."

Ryan reaches into his jacket pocket for his keys. "No, I'm okay. Thanks though," He opens the door to his apartment and steps inside, breathing in the musty air. 

He runs his fingers across the yellowed, cracked wallpaper, a soft smile on his face. The apartment had charm, in a vintage...falling-apart kind of way. He opens a set of moth-eaten curtains in the living room, allowing a thin ray of sunlight inside.

After a moment, Ryan remembers his new neighbor is standing behind him. "Sorry, uh, Shane--" 

He turns around, but the door is closed, his suitcase sat delicately in front of it. 

"Oh."

Ryan realizes he must have left while he'd wandered through the apartment. Though it was probably just to give him some privacy, Ryan couldn't help but think that it was sort of rude to leave without saying anything.

Ryan flops down on the living room couch and opens his backpack, pulling out his camera. 

"So here I am..." he stands up and films the apartment briefly before turning it back on himself. "Apartment 6C in the Brookdale complex. Tonight we're gonna start exploring, but for right now, I'm gonna take a nap."

Ryan shuts the camera off and scrolls through the notifications on his phone for a moment before falling asleep. 

***

Ryan sits up, his heart pounding. 

There it was again, a strange knocking sound coming from behind him. 

He scrambles off the couch, squinting through the dim evening light. 

"Oh," he shakes his head in mild embarrassment, his heart rate returning to normal. “It's someone at the door." 

He walks over and opens it. 

The guy from earlier-- Shane, Ryan remembers blearily, is standing in front of him. 

"Oh, hey man," Ryan leans against the wall of his apartment casually, trying desperately not to look like he'd just woken up from a nap. 

"Hey, Ryan. I wanted to apologize about earlier."

Ryan looks up at him, blinking to clear his rather fuzzy vision. "Huh?"

"I left kinda suddenly. Sorry, I heard my oven go off."

Ryan takes a good look at the man in front of him for the first time. He's tall-- really tall, actually. He's leaning slightly forward, his arm against the doorframe, probably to make himself seem less intimidating to Ryan. 

His hair is slightly unkempt, and it looks like he hasn't shaved in a few days. Ryan blinks again, trying to clear his head. 

"So?"

Ryan looks up at him. "What?"

"I said, can I come in?"

Ryan nods, though he isn't quite sure why Shane wanted to be inside. Well, he probably would know if he'd listened, but his neighbor's appearance was overall very distracting.

"Here," Shane sits down at the bar in Ryan's empty kitchen, setting a platter of what looked like lumps of charcoal down on the counter.

Ryan stands on the other side of the bar, looking down at the plate of mystery food. 

"They're brownies," Shane says, pushing the plate over to him. "Try one."

Ryan takes one and tries to bite into it, but it's rock solid. "It--It's really good," he grimaces, setting it back on the plate. 

He zones out again for a moment.

"So?"

Ryan blinks. “Sorry, what?" 

"You're not a very good listener, are you?"

Stunned at his straightforwardness, Ryan's mouth falls slightly agape. 

"Dude, I'm just messing with you," Shane says, smiling again. "Relax."

Ryan laughs awkwardly, pulling a bar stool around the counter so that he was sitting across from his new neighbor. 

"Tell me about yourself. Who is Ryan Bergara, y'know."

"Well, I'm from here, LA, but I moved 'cause..." Ryan trails off, searching desperately for a reason why he had moved to Brookdale. "I moved here because it's way cheaper than most other places so close to downtown. My last apartment was hella expensive, and it wasn't half as nice as this place." 

Ryan lets out a sigh of relief as Shane seems to buy his story. He didn't want anyone to know he's only there because he's a ghost hunter--he didn't want to fuck up his reputation on day one. 

"You're pretty cool," Shane says as he tunes back into the conversation. "You're not like the last few tenants who lived here, the ones who were into that paranormal bullshit."

Ryan nods, praising himself for not telling Shane the truth. 

"It's a nice view, too," Ryan says, gesturing towards the window. 

"I know, it's why I love living here."

The two stare outside for a moment, lost in thought. 

"Well, I should be going," Shane stands up abruptly. 

Ryan looks at him, surprised. "Alright, well, nice seeing you."

"Right back 'atcha," Shane winks. "As long as you remember my name, we're chill."

Ryan smiles as Shane leaves, closing the door quietly behind him. 

Ryan grabs his camera and turns on the kitchen light, trying to find good lighting for his next segment of his video. 

"So, tonight, I'm going to bring my EMF detector down to the basement--that's supposed to be a hotspot for paranormal activity. See you guys soon."

He stops recording and pulls his barstool over to the kitchen window. He sits, watching the sunset for a while, trying to contain his excitement for later that night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Ryan is pretending to not be a ghost hunter because a lot of the other people in the apartment building dislike them and he doesn't want to ruin his reputation. Also, Ryan's a douchebag in this chapter sorry
> 
>  
> 
> PS: Shane is like really emo and I can't really explain why I wrote him that way but it's my au lmao so.

Ryan grabs his wrist with his other hand to try to stop it from shaking. He opens the door marked "Basement" and reaches for the light switch. 

Wincing, he pulls back his hand quickly at the touch of a cobweb. He reaches his hand into the darkness again for the light switch, feeling along the wall until he can feel the old paneling beneath his fingertips. He flicks the switch, but it does nothing. 

Ryan bites his lip and switches on the night-vision filter on his camera. Grabbing onto the dusty railing, he slowly begins walking down the stairs. 

After a couple seconds, the door leading out slams shut, seemingly on its own. Any light now sucked from the basement entirely, Ryan grabs a flashlight, holding it in his teeth as he continues down the stairs.

As he continues walking, he can feel the air around him growing colder. He reaches the bottom step and breathes deeply. 

"It's so dark," Ryan whispers. He looks into his camera and turns, staring at the vastness of the room through the viewfinder. 

Ryan looks away from the camera and shines his flashlight on the ground, illuminating rat droppings and scattered trash. He realizes the basement branches off into three sections. "It's like a maze."

After a moment that seemed like an eternity, Ryan picks the one closest to his left. Praying he wouldn't get lost, he continues through the basement, walking as silently as he could. His EMF detector begins beeping faster as he walks down a long, extremely dark hallway filled with cobwebs and ancient construction equipment. 

Ryan puts his flashlight back in his mouth and pulls out the detector. The arrow was shaking in the middle of the spectrum that was labeled "low to high frequency". 

"We're getting closer," Ryan whispers, though it sounds slightly more like a whimper. 

"For the views," he mutters to himself as he tiptoes down the seemingly endless hallway. 

The longer he walks, the more conscious he is of the walls slowly closing in on him. 

And the suffocating darkness.

And that beeping.

The beeps from the detector grew louder and higher pitched, filling his head with noise until he could no longer think, it was just that wretched, hideous beep, beep, beep, beep---

Ryan slams the detector to the ground with strength he wasn't aware he had. 

The beeping stops, and Ryan can think semi-clearly again. 

Panting from the sudden adrenaline coursing through his veins, Ryan looks around and finds himself standing at the opening of a very large room, so large his flashlight beam is swallowed by darkness as he shines it around. 

He takes a single step into the room, wincing at the echo his footstep makes on the tile floor. 

The sound of a boiler kicking in startles him as he takes another step into the room. 

"That's fucking weird," Ryan says to the camera. "We're in the boiler room right now, but it's still hella cold."

He walks a little bit faster, following the sound of the boiler. 

His flashlight catches movement in front of him, and he jumps.

"Anyone there?" He yells into the darkness. 

He steps closer, even though every instinct in his body is telling him to run away.

Attempting to push those thoughts deep down, Ryan takes one step closer to the source of the movement. 

A tiny ball of fire appears for a split second before going out again. 

Not believing his eyes, Ryan whimpers. "H-holy shit."

He shines his flashlight over to the source of the light, illuminating a wooden table and--

Ryan yelps, his heart pounding. 

A light flickers on overhead, illuminating the table and the figure Ryan had just seen sitting next to it. 

"Shane?"

"Hey, you remembered my name," he grins, tapping his cigarette on the side of an ashtray. 

Ryan turns his camera off and stuffs it into his backpack. "I-I thought you were--" he stutters, standing a good twenty feet away from him. 

"That I was a ghost?"

"Well, yeah," Ryan says. "What the fuck are you doing in this creepy ass basement? In the dark? What the--what the fuck?"

Shane laughs warmly. "Dude, come over here, I'm not gonna kill you."

Ryan walks over to him hesitantly, his heart still racing. "Answer the question."

"Well, I'd ask you the same thing," he pokes Ryan in the chest. "What are you doing down here in the dark in this creepy ass basement?" He says, slightly mockingly. 

"I asked you first."

Shane takes a drag from his cigarette. "I go down here sometimes when I need to be alone. Also, management won't let me smoke in my apartment so I come down here."

"You smoke?" Ryan asks, sitting down across from Shane. 

"No," Shane says, blowing a puff of smoke at him. 

Ryan turns off his flashlight and touches the cord dangling from the ceiling in front of him. "This turns the lights on?"

"Yup," Shane grins. "So glad I waited until you saw me to turn them on, you shoulda seen the look on your face!"

Ryan looks up at him, slightly hurt. "Don't play with my feelings like that, I was so scared." He drums his fingers on the table, looking upset. 

"So, why were you down here?" 

"I was looking for ghosts. My--my friend wanted me to go down here to see if I could find something," Ryan says, surprised that the ability to lie came so easily to him. "But apparently they don't exist, according to you, so I'm just wasting my time."

"Ghosts are bullshit, Ryan. Anyone who says they've seen a ghost before is lying." Shane takes another drag from his cigarette. "And you're not wasting your time entirely. You're talking to me, remember?"

Ryan suddenly realizes that Shane's breath reeks of cheap liquor. 

"And you drink, too."

"C'mon, don't tell me you haven't had a worse Friday night," Shane hands him a bottle of whiskey and a grimy glass. "Drink, it'll make you feel better."

"I don't really like whiskey."

"Oh, I'm sorry, you're more of a Cosmopolitan kind of guy, my mistake."

"Alright, alright," Ryan pours some into his glass and hands him back the bottle. "And for your information, Cosmopolitans are fucking delicious."

The two sit in silence for a moment, Shane holding his cigarette between his fingers rather daintily and Ryan attempting to drown his frazzled nerves in alcohol. 

"So I told you about myself," Ryan says, pouring more whiskey into his glass. "Your turn."

Shane crushes his cigarette into the ashtray. "Not much to say."

"Well there's gotta be something interesting about you."

"Uh, I've been living here for, like, too long probably. Seen a lot of people come and go, y'know."

Ryan nods, even though he's not quite sure what Shane means. 

"You're not the first well-meaning, fresh-outta-college frat boy to move into that apartment is all I'm saying."

"I'm not a frat boy," Ryan says, mildly offended. 

"You know what I mean."

They sit in silence again. 

"You're weird, Mr...." Ryan trails off. 

"My last name is Madej. Hard to pronounce, even harder to spell."

"I was under the assumption your last name was..." Ryan pauses, trying to think of a good insult. "Bonestilts or something."

Shane chokes on his whiskey. "Bonestilts?"

"Yeah, 'cause you're...'cause you're tall and stuff," Ryan says defensively. 

"Christ, I take back what I said about being a frat boy, you're so much worse."

Ryan smiles, pleased to have gotten a reaction out of Shane. "What can I say, Bonestilts? It's a gift to be this clever."

The two laugh for a moment before staring at their drinks in silence once more. 

"Hey," Shane says, looking uncomfortable. "Would you mind if I showed you something? I've been down here a lot, there's something really cool you should see."

Ryan drinks the rest of his whiskey and follows Shane through another hallway. 

"How long did you say you've lived here?"

Shane turns around and looks at him dead in the eyes. "What year was JFK assassinated again?"

Ryan stares at him for a moment.

Shane stares back at him, unmoving. 

"November 22, 1963," Ryan squeaks.

Shane's face splits into a grin, calming Ryan's nerves. "Of course you know the exact date," he pushes him playfully. "You fucking nerd. I moved here like 6 years ago, Mr. Bush-did-9/11."

"How could you tell I was into conspiracy theories?"

Shane continues walking, leaving Ryan to practically jog along side him in order to keep up. "Trust me, Ryan, I can tell."

Shane makes a sudden left turn, sending Ryan skidding to a halt in order to avoid bumping into him. They've reached a small room with a single lightbulb swinging from the ceiling. 

"Welcome," Shane says, stepping inside and beckoning for Ryan to follow suit. Ryan does, but his eyes dart back out to the hallway as soon as he steps in. The atmosphere of the room makes Ryan's skin crawl. 

"Shane, why are we here? I don't--"

Shane turns around towards him, tears in his eyes suddenly. 

Ryan takes a step back. "Dude, are you--are you crying?"

"No," Shane says, deadly calm, though Ryan's positive a tear is running down his cheek. 

"Seriously, dude, you okay?"

Shane smiles, though in the dim light it looks like a grimace of pain. Ryan is suddenly very, very afraid. 

"I'm fine, don't worry."

Ryan turns his flashlight on. "Look, it was nice talking to you, but I've gotta go--"

"No, stay, it'll be fine." Shane blinks.

"Alright, dude. You look kinda like you're that guy from Get Out right now--"

Shane tilts his head slightly. "What's that?"

Ryan looks Shane in the eyes and the tears vanish. "You've never heard of Get Out? It's this crazy good movie, you'd love it."

"Hmph," Shane grunts. "Sorry, I've never heard of it."

Shane smiles at Ryan, who smiles back, his nerves still slightly rattled. 

"I think the lighting is just hella weird in here."

Shane nods, making a dog shadow puppet on the wall. 

"So, what do you do for a living?"

Shane looks at him, startled. "Oh, I do graphic design stuff. I'm a freelancer."

Shane turns back to the wall and makes another shadow puppet. 

Ryan changes the subject. "It's really dark down here. Aren't you creeped out?"

Shane turns towards him. "Yeah, but that's half the fun."

Ryan blinks, and suddenly Shane is kissing him.

His lips are so cold. 

Ryan's eyes shoot open and he pushes Shane away. 

"Dude, what the fuck?"

Shane looks down. "Sorry, I--"

"I'm straight."

Shane nods, suddenly extremely unwilling to make eye contact. "I--I misread the situation. I'm sorry."

Ryan stands up. "Yeah, you kinda did."

He gets up and leaves, going back the way he came. 

He doesn't look back to see Shane, still sitting on the floor, head buried in his arms.


End file.
